


The Beginning of a Friendship

by SleepingHearts



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Football, Friendship, Friendship at first sight, Gen, High School, High School AU, Love at First Sight, Quarterback, bc i think its p fluff for trev, idfk, lmao idk what else to tag ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 13:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3174758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepingHearts/pseuds/SleepingHearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short AU tale of Trevor laying eyes on Michael for the very first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beginning of a Friendship

**Author's Note:**

> Written to 'Silver City Sleeps' by Falling Up. I think (and hope) you'll understand why. Inspired by Michael in his football gear in this post tbh: http://epsee.tumblr.com/post/98428675011 Cheers.

Jesus  _fuck_  it got cold at night. He didn't know what possessed people to do  _outdoor things_  at night. Like go to a football game. He didn't even know how he got talked into  _going_  to a football game. At night. In the butt fuck freezing weather. All Trevor Philips knew was he regretted his very decision to "hang out" with a few friends.

" _It'll be fun,_ " they said. " _It's not even that cold,_ " they said. " _Fuck you and fuck this, I'm going home,_ " he said.

He didn't go home. He didn't even turn around to go home. Deep down, Trevor actually  _ **really**_  wanted to be at the first opening game of Lunsford's high school football team. He'd never been, and hell it was only his sophomore year, so why the fuck not? Still, he regretted it. The frigid cold was biting his ass.

The Pit. That's what they called the stadium. It wasn't much, but it was their pride and joy. Trevor kept his head low and followed his friends to some seats in the raised bleachers near their team's sideline. Only a few more minutes until the junior varsity Lunsford Cowboy's burst through the flimsy paper that was covering the tunnel. They said it was always nice to support not just the varsity team, but the junior varsity as well. And fuck the freshmen-- they didn't ever matter.

Apparently, his friends thought they had enough time to grab some food and be back for the grand running through the tunnel, for they asked Trevor what he wanted--  _if_  he even wanted anything. Trevor declined their services however, having ate a burger before he met up with them. The three of them left their big fluffy jackets on the seats next to him, leaving Trevor alone. A huff left his lips, his breath becoming visible in the cold air. Grumbling about how he didn't know  _how_  they didn't even think it was freezing and how it was the bane of his existence--  _especially_  because his mother had taken his warmest jacket for her  _own_  use that night. When he could see his own breath outside, it was  _too damn cold._

Trevor's red ears perked up, picking up the sound of the marching band marking the team's entrance and he started to look around for his friends. They were nowhere to be found. He didn't see them running back to their seats, either. This part must not have been that important to them if they were willing to miss it for food. Or maybe they could see it from where they were at. He didn't know.

The crowds around him began to cheer and stand. Thankfully though, no one was sitting in front of him, so he didn't have to stand along with them. He hated going with the norm, anyway. Bunch of losers.

The first football player to break the paper and step onto the gridiron was, much to Trevor's surprise, not the quarterback. It turned out to be five guys at a time, running onto the field, waving, jumping, laughing. It was only toward the end when Trevor saw  _him._

Right in the middle. Helmet in hand, white gloves in another, the junior ran onto the field, all smile. Raven hair isn't what caught his eyes first. The smile isn't what did him in. It was his blue eyes, almost grey, that caught his attention. For a moment, Trevor couldn't even remember the teen's name. All he knew, all he felt was a budding warmth in his chest. And suddenly, the cold wasn't so bad after all. It was just him and the football player in that moment.

Trevor had to blink a few times to rid of the daze, realizing he was running towards him. No— no, that was wrong. He was running towards the  _sideline._  Where the rest of the football players were standing and chatting. When the JV football player reached the sideline, he turned around and that's when it hit Trevor.  _Townley. Michael Townley. Quarterback for the Lunsford Cowboys._  He only knew about him because he was one of the most popular kids in school. Hell, he was in the fucking junior class, an entire class ahead of him.

_Ain't no way I'm ever gonna get **close**  to that shitloaf,_ he thought to himself. He and jocks didn't really get along too well.  _Plus_ , the two lived in completely different worlds. They were the complete opposite of each other. Still... Might be a good idea to wish him luck.

As his friends were coming back from their food run, Trevor stood from the seats almost forgetting he had to save them.

"Trev, where're you goin'?" one of them asked.

Trevor simply waved, eyes on the back of the quarterback's head. "Be right back."

Walking up to the fence, he leaned over it, taking him in. The rest of the team might as well not even have been there. "Hey, Townley!" he called out.

Laughing at some joke, he turned around thinking he'd see one of his friends. A tad surprised Trevor wasn't one of his friends, he raised a brow at the teenager in the raised bleachers. What could he possibly want?

"Good luck during the game!"

Immediately, Michael grinned and waved a hand. "Thanks, man."

"Trevor. I'm Trevor."

"Thanks, Trevor. Means a lot." And with that, he turned back around to his buddies, sliding his helmet on and getting ready for the game.

Trevor never returned to his friends in the bleachers after that. Instead, he leaned against the fence and watched the game, trying to understand it in his sudden interest. His friends didn't seem to mind, for they never even called him back. Trevor was glad, as he had his eyes on the lean quarterback the entire time.


End file.
